Poor Max! Male Female Wrestling

By Jason Pinaster

How could anyone who got to regularly engage in male-female wrestling ever be poor? Could it be that Max was always a bit of a whiner? Buy this story to read Max’s version of events. Maybe one of the ladies will give him something to whine about.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jason Pinaster
• Release date: Jan 9, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005925901

Jason Pinaster

If you would like to be on my mailing list, please click on the box at the very bottom of the column under my photo. You will receive prompt notification of my new publications and special offers.I have heard say that the first obligation of a writer is to entertain. If so, the first obligation of a writer of erotica is to arouse and I hope you feel that I have succeeded.I believe that story sets the scene. A story lets the reader start to care for the characters in it. And if the reader cares about the characters, it is easier for him or her to identify with their arousal, to let that arousal tingle the reader’s own skin.Christopher Carter is a lawyer who’s into BDSM and other hijinks, most of them sexual. His stories feature a little fun, lots of sex, a little adventure, and Carter's special brand of justice. Lusty Lee was a private investigator whose nemesis forced her to pursue him through a new kink in each episode. The Mistress Megan stories take her through her development as a dominatrix during which she must satisfy their every fetish.While my current focus is on stories featuring (in order of frequency) erotic combat, wet and messy, action-adventure and tickling, I’m open to anything which turns me (and hopefully you) on. I dabble in sex games and BDSM. I have published two novellas set in Hedonism II, the notorious Jamaican resort and even one featuring a sentient sex robot.At present, I’m developing a Patreon page showcasing erotic combat vignettes: www.patreon.com/JasonPinasterPlease feel free to contact me at [e-mail] And don’t forget to click on the box at the very bottom of the column under my photo. Cheers!

Book preview

Poor Max! Male Female Wrestling © 2022 Jason Pinaster

For more stories of erotic combat, including exclusive wrestling content, please subscribe to my Patreon page: www.patreon.com/JasonPinaster

Copyright Notice: Copyright by Jason Pinaster 2021; all rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction; the characters are not you.

Cover Notes and Credits Many thanks to fightpulse.com

Back Notes: About Jason Pinaster, other books and stories by the author.

Acknowledgement and Author’s Note

Poor Max! Male Female Wrestling

I wish to state for the record that I do not agree with the title to this story. I am not poor. In fact, financially, I’ve had a really good year. I’m not sure that it even describes the end of the story. It does, of course, perfectly match the moment in time represented by the cover photo, but more on that later. All good stories have a beginning, a middle, and an end.

So, let me begin at the beginning.

It all started when my aunt left the Sexy-B fetish wrestling emporium to me in her will. Aunt Beatrice—the Bea in Sexy-B—had been an exceptionally unconventional woman both in body and in mind. Aunt Bea had left Sarah Boulton, an attractive, vivacious, outgoing, intelligent and fun young woman in charge of the emporium. When I visited my newest asset, Sarah had taken me on a tour of the gym and we had somehow ended up in an exhibition wrestling match. Let’s just say that I learned what the ‘sexy’ in Sexy-B meant.

And I really got into the real swing of the Sexy-B when I’d wrestled Georgina—Georgie, a beautiful chocolate-skinned woman who liked to wrestle in baby oil. Her original opponent had pulled a hamstring prior to the bout. The ‘fight’ ended up in a tie with Georgie and I treating each other to rip-roaring orgasms.

At the end of my visit to the Sexy-B, I left Sarah in charge. It had been so much fun that I had toyed with the idea of running the gym myself. But the Sexy-B didn’t generate much of an income; after paying Sarah, there wasn’t much of anything left over at the end of each month. I had repeatedly put the ultimate decision off, but had then set up a video chat with Sarah.

She looked gorgeous on my laptop screen. The negotiation had gone back and forth and we settled on sharing any net profits, after her salary had been paid, on a fifty-fifty basis. I hadn’t really expected to receive anything, but I liked the idea of maintaining a foothold in the Sexy-B.

At the end of the video-chat, Sarah had made me jerk off. She was supposed to have masturbated as well, but I suspect that she had tricked me on that score. And then, when I was sitting there euphoric and helpless, Sarah had negotiated an extra term.

Max, you’re working too hard, she said.

I nodded. Keeping my hands under the table was more important than disagreeing.

So, she said, the muscles in her arm still tensing and releasing as if she was still stroking her pussy, in order to maintain your ownership interest in the Sexy-B, you have to visit the gym at least once a year.

Sure, I said. The only thing I cared about at that point was a chance to clean myself off.

And, each year, you have to fight one of the Sexy-B’s wrestlers as part of your visit. The winner gets to use the other’s body. ‘Use’ at the Sexy-B meant sex.

I nodded again and did my best to signal that the video chat was over.

Otherwise, said Sarah, you’ll lose your ownership interest and I will end up as sole owner of the Sexy-B.

Done, I said and managed to use my chin to shut the cover of my laptop.

And now, two weeks shy of a year later, I was returning for my annual wrestling match so that I could keep up my ownership interest. It wasn’t about the money. It was about keeping in touch with Sarah, and with the memory of Aunt Bea. I took a deep breath as the taxi turned into the Sexy-B’s parking lot. At that